Man from the Levant
by NCR Ranger
Summary: Israel was born to fight, and it has produced one of the toughest militaries, pound for pound, on Earth. From those armed forces come plenty of capable, determined fighters- exactly who the R6 unit is looking for.
1. Chapter 1

Personal Data

* * *

Name: Joshua Mozark

Age: 23

Nationality: Israeli

Religion: Jewish

Hometown: Tel Aviv

Height: 6ft, 1 inch

Weight: 170 Ilbs

Hair: Dark.

Beard: Goatee

Notable psychial traits: scar curving up from beneath his jawline on the left side

Tattoos: T-Rex skull on forearm

* * *

Military reccord/ Personal Background:

* * *

Reports of insubordination: 0

Reports of altercations: 5

Reports of behavorial issues: 2

Last Attained Rank: Staff Sergeant

History of service ( summarized ):

As is usually the case in Israel, Joshua's family has a prominent military background. Both parents have served in the IDF ( Israeli Defense Force ), with his father having participated in the Israeli occupation of Lebanon, as well as the 1973 conflict against Eygpt and Syria. In addtion, his grandfather fought in the 1948 hostilites against the surrounding Arab nations, and two cousins were wounded in combat during the fighting against Eygpt in 1968.

It is largely due to this strong patriotic family history that Joshua felt compelled to enlist himself. He was accepted into the IDF at the age of 19, and completed basic training to become a field radio operator. Upon completion, he was assigned to an infrantry regiment on active deployment to Israel's southeastern border. The situation on the borders with Eypgt and Syria are more stable, so the IDF has been diverting most of their attention to the Jordanian frontier.

Over the course of the 3 years spent deployed on that front, Joushua participated in multiple combat operations- primarily raids and civilian escorts- against ISIS cells operating across the border with Jordan. During 2 of those engagments, he was minorly wounded by shrapnel, but remained combat effective.

Following his most recent deployment, Joshua was then posted to an IDF base on the Jordanian border. He had next to no contact with hostile forces throughout most of it, and it seems that during then, he began to become interested in joining one of Israel's premier Special Ops units: LOTAR.

His application was accepted, and he completed the full course to be accepted into their ranks. As of now, he has completed numerous operation with LOTAR, but the exact details of said operations have remained sealed for now.

* * *

Superior Officer's Assesments/ Psych Profile:

Joshua has demonstrated a curious cross between having issues with authority, and wanting to be by the book. His style does not quite qualify as a " maverick ", but he's certainly the kind who has no real qualms about taking risks, as long as he judges they will pay immediate dividends. In the middle of hostile action, that is always, or at the very least usually, a hard call to get right. That he seems to have succeeded definetly warrants attention, and commdendation.

Off the field, he again shows that he lives on a strange border: not a loner who avoids others, but not one to be in the middle of a large gathering.

With so many military members in his family tree, Joshua has certainly been familarized with some elements of that kind of lifestyle- and in particular, of the " living on the edge " that comes with military special ops.

( On a somewhat unrelated note, he seems fond of dinosaurs )

Contrastingly, he is selective about talking about himself. It seems to strongly depend on _who_ he's speaking with; the lower down the rank ladder you are , the more willing he is likely to be. Why that is may some connection to the accumulated 7 reports of " issues " he's had, though how none of them crossed the line into outright confrontations with superior officers is impressive. Also a sure factor in how he managed to get into Spec Ops training as well.

* * *

Rainbow Six HQ base

Hereford, UK.

10:00pm, local clock

* * *

Agent Six leaned back in her chair, lips pressed together with focus as she read the last few lines on the dossier.

Outside, rain was battering the office windows. That was nothing new. This was England, after all. Rain was all but the only kind of weather the whole island was familar with. It was at least consistent- unlike the wobbling Brexit deals or the politicans responsible for it.

As it peppered the glass, Six contemplated this potential recruit's file.

Well, at least the front cover of it. The full document had multiple files, covering everything from the first day Joshua had set foot on an IDF base, up until a few months ago, when his LOTAR unit performed a cross-op with an R6 team ( Consisting of Doc, Jager, Tachanka, and Montagne ) on Cyprus. It was quite thorough compilation of history, thankfully leaving nothing important out.

From what she'd read so far, this Joshua seemed promising. Six was impressed with the sum total of it, so far.

_The right ammount of boldness, and a level of responsibility as well_, she noted._ I'll have to read more of what I've got here, but otherwise, I am confident he'd fit well here._

_H'es the kind of man we need. _

_That's what they do best_


	2. The rifleman

**A/N: Dialogue between Israelis will be in Hebrew.**

* * *

Gun range on the Mozark Family Kibbutz

3 hours out of Tel Aviv.

7:30am

* * *

The razor sharp sound of a discharging rifle echoed out across the desert sand.

It was not a modern weapon, or one hailing from the Cold War. It was even older than that. The weapon in question had cut its teeth in during WW2, and over 70 years later, it was back in action.

_bwaom !  
_

A bolt was crisply cycled, and a scalding hot empty brass casing flipped up and out. There was something therapeutic about the sound of a bolt action weapon's bolt cycling so crisply- that sharp _clck, clack _of metal. It was nearly as satisfying as the sound of a X-95's charging handle riding home.

" You missed. "

Joshua Mozark did his best to make that statement more of an_ observation_ that a criticism. There was a fine line between the two, but if you were deft enough, you could point out someone else's slip-up, without making it sound like you were being snide and sneering about it.

Getting it right _was_ tricky, but it could certainly be done. Needless to say, though, nothing worth doing in life ever was done easily.

Trouble was, you couldn't know how someone was taking their struggling with that until they responded. Even if you knew them.

" I. _Know_. I don't need a scope, or _you_, to tell me that. "

With a huff of annoyance, Joshua's brother Solomon- 3 years his younger- lowered the smoking Mk1 Lee-Enfield rifle he'd been firing at the sandbag dummies 180 yards downrange. His mouth was a thin line of disappointment, with a drop of sweat trickling through the layer of light stubble that covered his jaw.

Joshua wanted to bite back a chuckle, but quickly wound up failing. " Come on, Sol. Its not like they're 50 yards away- _and_ you've got no scope. That's _probably_ why. "

" For crying out loud- "

With an indifferent grunt, Solomon put a pair of binoculars to his eyes, and studied the targets, double checking his results.

" Told you I knew. Aghh, I was this close to a perfect 6 in a row hit streak. A full clip. "

Oh, the limitations of rifle design back in the early 1900's. No such thing as 30 round STANAG magazines; 6 round box ones had been the norm.

" Can't win 'em all. "

" You could _definitely_ use improvement to your pep talks. ", the younger Mozark replied, not even looking at him.

After another few moments of using the binos, Solomon put them away, then promptly fed another full clip into the Lee-Enfield. He cycled the bolt closed, then put it up to his shoulder. Closing his left eye, he peered down the length of the barrel.

" Taking another punt ? ", Joshua crossed both arms.

" That's the plan. Why don't you do something useful, and spot for me. "

There were certainly nicer ways he could've asked, but being on a loser's streak would put anyone in a sour mood. The Lee-Enfield, while a very dependable and powerful rifle despite being over 80 years old, was also no lightweight, weighing over 9 pounds fully loaded. Last but not least, it fired off .303 rounds, which were a tad larger than the 5.56mm rounds used by most developed nations' militaries- such as Israel.

Basically, poor Solomon arguably did need some help here. Joshua decided to be charitable for now. Best thing to do now was not to goad him too much by saying anything.

" Allright, because you asked nicely. ". Joshua took the binos, and put them to his eyes. He carefully twisted the adjustment rings, centering the viewing clarity.

" Ready ? "

" Of course. "

_Let him give it his best whack. If that doesn't give him what he's going for, that's a bridge we'll burn_

" Well, go on then. "

At Joshua's prompting, the younger Mozark opened fire. The Mk1 roared, and spat lead downrange.

" That's a hit ! ", Joshua confirmed.

Solomon didn't respond, but fired again.

_bwoom !_

_" _That's another one. ".

A light breeze began to kick up, rumbling in their ears. Joshua considered reminding Solomon that it could affect the bullet trajectory, but decided against it. His brother was no rookie, and even if he had been, that was no reason to treat him as incompetent.

_If there's one thing I hate, its when a rookie is spit on for _**being** _a rookie._

_bwoom !_

_" _And,_ another. _Looking solid, so far. "

The Mk1 had hammered out its reputation decades ago. It'd served the IDF well back when it was nothing but a militia's grassroots movement known as the Haganah. Decades had gone by from then to now, but the IDF of today hadn't forgotten where it came from, and neither had the country that it'd defended.

" Yeah- for now. Do me a favor, and don't call out the hits, ok ? Its the misses I care about. "

_The misses. MissUS. _It was an obvious joke, but again, Joshua decided to say nothing about it. Besides, there wasn't anything behind it: He knew Solomon understood the importance of being a faithful man. Both of them were; it was one of the lessons from their father that they'd both actually remembered and taken to heart.

" Alright, if you want. That does sound autistic, you know. "

" I _am_ autistic. ", Solomon muttered.

Normally, that issue didn't bring up anything sour between them, but Solomon hadn't forgotten how he'd been bounced from the IDF because of it. Or at least, that was one of the reasons. Solomon had found out the hard way he wasn't suited for serving, and taking orders from authority figures. On the other hand, he was a proud Isralie who wanted to do his bit for the country by serving it, and his getting rejected from the army had left a trace of bitterness in him.

Joshua reflexively looked for a way to smooth things. " Well, that would be if I didn't know

The streak continued, with Solomon proceeding to land shot after shot on target. He worked the bolt, sending flipping casings into the cooled morning sand.

Finally, he was down to one shot left. And all the others had hit-

" Ok, ok, here we go...", Solomon muttered barely loud enough for Joshua to hear.

" You know what to do ", the older Mozark encouraged, opting for saying something more pragmatic, as opposed to: ' _You can do this_ ' ! That would've done nothing at all.

_bwoom !_

The Mk1 fired again, dispensing the last of the clip. Solomon cycled out the final casing-

" Run dry, eh ? I was counting the shots. That's all 10. "

" Check the _targets,_ Joshua. How did I do ? "

" Hold your horses- "

A second or two went by, and then-

" Great news, Sol ! ", Joshua exclaimed.

" You nailed the lot. You got 'em all. "

He glanced over to see what his brother's reaction was, and found that he had a smirk on his face.

Not a wide one, but it was there. And it was well deserved, because why shouldn't it be there ? A winning streak was a winning streak, and it didn't matter if you won by a mile or a quarter mile:

Winning was winning.

* * *

" So, when are you heading back ? ", Solomon asked.

They'd left the range behind them by now, walking back to the main house. The venerable Enfield had been carefully scrubbed clean, and stowed away. It'd be safe and sound in its carrying case, now in the grip of Solomon's right hand, until it was brought out again.

The sun was rising higher now, and the sky was brightening up. A light breeze had blown back in again, stirring around the dry desert air.

" Everyone's glad you're here; they all want you to stick around for a while. But, you already knew that. "

Solomon had asked a valid question, and Joshua wanted to take time to answer it. At least enough to come up with a compelling answer. Trouble was, though, the only one he had wasn't one he thought someone from the family would want to hear- and that was that his leave was over in only 4 days.

He'd been back for a _week. _The 7 days felt like 14, but he hadn't lost track of the date.

_They say time flies when you're having fun. Or, in this case, when you're back on the reservation. For me, I suppose that's here _and _away_

" Sometime this week ", Joshua finally replied, exhaling lightly. " Not a day before or later. "

Solomon didn't say anything to that at first. Joshua couldn't say that was unexpected. Granted, both of them knew that IDF leaves these days were longer than they'd been even 10 years ago- contrary to popular belief, the middle east was more tranquil than the media would have one believe-and Israel was increasingly on better terms with its Arab neighbors. Still, border security had to be maintained, and that often resulted in a soldier's leave getting severed somewhat of the way through.

As it had in Joshua's case. He missed the hustle and regimen of the military, sure, with its constant activity and fast pacing ( though he could so without some of its regs ). On the other hand, he also missed the quiet of livin on the kibbutz's community. It wasn't too much in the country- or worse, the mountains.

Soon enough, he'd have to leave the latter and go back to the former.

" I know- Habrim was so excited when I showed up here. Teenagers- they look up to everyone. "

" Only if those " everyone "s are singers or pop stars ", Solomon reminded him, rolling both eyes.

" Hey- that's called being a millennial. Cousins are generally like that "

That earned a chuckle out of the younger Mozark, who shook his head with mild bemusement, as they continued their walkback. After several more minutes, they finally made it back to the central bungalow, lit by weather-worn red metal electric lamps hanging from the edge of its roof.

The screen door, creaking distinctly as usual, swung open to reveal a stocky woman with an oval face and dark green eyes. Her dark hair was tied back in a loose horsetail, with a few stands having come loose. She smiled warmly when she saw the two men approaching.

It didn't matter how many times a day Joshua saw her face: getting to see his fiancee was the biggest appeal of being home, and needless to say, it was what he missed most when he inevitably had to leave again. That they could communicate on a regular basis while Joshua was deployed definitely took the edge off, but it was actually being in the same room as her that didn't have an equal.

_There's always something worth fighting for. Or , someone_

" We're back, Luka ! ", Joshua called. " Sorry if we kept you waiting. "

" If we did, blame him ", Solomon added.

" Shut up, you ! ", chided Luka, putting her arms out to accept Joshua's firm embrace- and the follow up kiss he placed on her cheek.

" He won't listen to you ", Joshua reminded her softly. " That's ok- I will. "

Solomon rolled his eyes.

" First: You're full of it. And two: Get a room, both of you. "

Luka chuckled, beckoning both of them to come inside. " Its called ' being in a balanced relationship '. How are you not familiar with that ? "

" I wouldn't know what one is ! How do _you_ not know that ? "

Joshua let himself smile as the door swung closed behind the 3 of them. He hit his REI-bought hiking boots together, shaking off the dust, before shucking them off entirely.

He'd need to wear boots again before too long, he knew. There was always that sense of " ready at a moment's notice " that followed him, as a citizen soldier.

But for now, he didn't need to worry or think about that.


End file.
